


History’s Monster

by GreenVeal



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Child Neglect, Firestar is a dad to all, Gen, Starclan is incompetent, aka the one where spirits cannot be purged without popping back up in Starclan, father-son bonding, second death au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2020-09-25 06:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenVeal/pseuds/GreenVeal
Summary: After the Great Battle, Firestar passes on to Starclan, finding himself in a time of turmoil and debate.At the same time, Tigerkit awakes alone, unaware that his presence has sparked up turmoil and debate.





	1. Here and Now

**Author's Note:**

> AU belongs to Official-Darkforest on tumblr, I’m just messing around with it.

Thick Rain-scent bogged down the air. It was barely hospitable enough for a lone kit to survive without its mother’s body heat.

Kneading the soil In front of him, Tigerkit knew something had gone horribly wrong. He was small, on his own, laying somewhere unprotected, practically crow-food. Thunder could be heard from far away, it didn’t crack, it rolled, under different circumstances it would have been a pleasant sound. Here, alone, the soft percussion startled Tigerkit upright. In a panic, he opened his eyes.

Immediately, he knew what was wrong, he was in Starclan.

The pleasant, glossy fog surrounding him was dotted with constellations. Silverpelt shifted in the grass around his paws. Ferns grew like trees around the clearing he’d awoken in. Black and silver vines hung from the few oaks he could see. Birdsong, a susurrus from the leaves, and the distant roar of rain all overwhelmed his tiny ears.

Terrified, Tigerkit screwed his eyes shut.

Racking his memory he knew he had been a sickly kit, even more so than his sisters, but he didn’t know he was about to die. He hadn’t even really considered it. This wasn’t fair, he could have lived a full life. He could have been a fierce warrior of Thunderclan, but instead he would spend eternity as a kit. It felt like a punishment for something he’d never live to do.

It hadn’t been his fault that he was born sick.

——

Bluestar’s eyes were cold and sad, her jaw was set, her brow was furrowed. Firestar cast his gaze away from the other Thunderclan leader.

Before she had been a leader, she’d been a mother who’d lost her kits to circumstance.

For her part, Leopardfoot looked suitably distraught. ”I shouldn’t have left him like that, but you have to understand that I couldn’t leave him to suckle with his sis- with Nightkit and Mistkit.”

“So you abandoned your kit to die!” Firestar meowed, his voice cracked from the pressure of keeping his volume down.

“This is Starclan, he can’t die. We already know that.”

“True.” Bluestar interjected. She said something else to Leopardfoot, calm and reassuring. Firestar’s mind was elsewhere. He looked at the rock walls around him, it was the old leader’s den from the forest, preserved in the memory of cats both before and after him. This wasn’t the first time he’d had a heated argument in this very cavern, but it was still the first time he’d seen the place in moons. It was the first familiar thing he’d seen since he died.

“I haven’t even been dead for a full day, neither has he.” Attention immediately snapped to him. “But I won’t treat that kit like Tigerstar until he gives me a reason to.” That was final, when Firestar finished speaking he stood and left to retrieve Starclan’s missing kit.

His head was heavy on his neck, the afterlife was supposed to be easy, you rest when you’re dead. Tigerstar was far beyond dead now, and still Firestar felt the tyrant’s presence. His own arrival to Starclan had been overshadowed by the appearance of a small tabby scrap at Leopardfoot’s nestside, he’d been immediately thrust into the heated debate on the future of ‘that kit’. The kit that was undeniably Tigerkit, a scrawny, mewling little thing only one half the size of his sisters.

It was impossible, seeing as that kit no longer existed. He had grown into Tigerstar, a dictatorial lich who had just been entirely unmade by Firestar himself.

Firestar could not believe that it hadn’t been a day’s time since he and Tigerstar died. Today felt like the longest moon of his life.

He really hoped there was sleep in Starclan, he’d been too busy to ask that earlier.

——

The afterlife didn’t feel the way Tigerkit had always imagined it. He’d always imagined a warrior’s welcome, surrounded by clanmates and long forgotten ancestors. Looking around him, it seemed like he’d spawned in the middle of a jungle, completely alone and unprotected. It wasn’t unreasonable to expect to see a member of Lionclan weaving through the trees around him. All things considered, that would be an honor of its own.

With a yawn, he felt himself drifting into sleep. He hadn’t expected to need sleep in Starclan, and he wondered if there was something wrong with him.

He wondered if he’d be able to see the living world in his dreams. Hopefully, he’d be able to walk in the dreams of his mother, she’d want to know that he was alright.

“Tigerkit!” Yowled an unfamiliar voice.

Judging from the timbre, this cat was a tom. He sounded confident, virile, the sort of cat that could win a battle with just the commanding strength of his voice.

Tigerkit shrunk in on himself, frightened by the stranger’s presence.

The other cat drew closer. “Tigerkit!” He cried again.

Tigerkit wondered if he should respond, surely, no cat would harm a kit in Starclan. On the other paw, he didn’t know anything about his situation. Blind faith felt dangerous.

Before he could speak up, the cat found him. The tom’s ruddy-orange pelt was brighter then anything Tigerkit had seen in his life. He didn’t have the vocabulary to describe how vibrant the strange cat’s fur was.

Slitted emerald eyes trained themselves on Tigerkit.

The cat smiled.

Relief escaped Tigerkit in a sorry squeak.

The cat stopped, and then laid down to meet Tigerkit’s eyes.

“Hi there.” He purred, letting his body go limp in the glistening grass. “Are you alright, little thing?”

Tigerkit forced himself to nod, suddenly eager to impress this cat. Or perhaps, desperate to make sure he didn’t know how scared he’d been. “I’m in Starclan?” He chirped.

The older cat’s smile deepened. “Indeed. You are.”

If Tigerkit was expected to mourn himself, he didn’t pick up on the cue. For the first time he could remember, his lungs were clean and his breathing went unimpeded. “Oh! So who does that make you? Oh—! You’re Thunderstar! Aren’t you?”

The tom laughed, but not mockingly. “No, dear no. I’m Firestar.”

“Oh. But I could tell you were a leader- you look like a leader!”

“Well, thank you. I’m glad to have met your expectations.” Once Firestar had finished chuckling, he cast a strange frown at Tigerkit, as if he’d just been reminded of something sad.

“Are you okay?” Tigerkit chimed, setting his nose up against Firestar’s.

“I’m good. Unexpectedly good.” He lifted his head to face the direction he’d come from, eventually tossing his head back towards Tigerkit with a sigh.

Tigerkit couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked tired. “So do we still need to sleep in Starclan?”

Firestar returned to lighter spirits, shaking his head. “In all honesty Tigerkit, I have no idea.”

—— 

Foolishly, Firestar had initially been afraid the little brown scrap in the clearing was dead. He wasn’t quite used to the reality of Starclan yet.

Now Tigerkit was batting at his tail, eager and energetic and shockingly innocent. Something about the sight made him feel a little bit dizzy. If he hadn’t known better, it could have just been any other kit. But it wasn’t, that very cat had slaughtered him less than a day before. Considering how busy he’d been today, that death felt like eons ago.

This little kit, the ghost of a ghost, was probably harmless. It was in unexpected imbroglio, if nothing else, perhaps some great adventure waiting to be had.

Either way, he would not let this kit be set aside and abandoned. Certainly not without fair trial.

“Let’s go back to camp.” He said, standing. “I imagine Bluestar is getting worried about me.”

“Why would that leader be worried about you? This is Starclan, what can happen?”

Firestar stretched, Tigerkit’s verve was beginning to make him feel old. “She might think I’ve gotten myself lost, maybe she’s completely preoccupied right now. Either way, we should be heading back to camp.”

“Okay, can you carry me then?”

Obligingly, Firestar picked the kit up by the scruff and headed back the way he’d come. Despite his size, Tigerkit was unusually heavy. Not helping the matter, he would not stop writhing around, twisting from side to side and eagerly asking inane questions that Firestar could never hope to answer. He nearly set the kit down, just to explain that he too was extremely new to Starclan, and completely unaware of the finer details of the afterlife’s day-to-day.

The terrain itself was still completely new to him. Through his preoccupation he could still tell how beautiful it was, the air above him shifted slowly, dim sunlight filtered through inky black clouds, each one dotted with stars. The air was warm and draped with fog, ferns grew to the size of twolegs all around him, while small babbling brooks winded about about his feet.

If he wasn’t careful, he would actually get lost.

Tigerkit yawned, then he politely asked Firestar how he died.

Firestar very nearly clenched his teeth.

“I was fighting another cat.” He said, speaking into the ruff of Tigerkit’s neck. “I won— Then a tree landed on me.”

Eventually it would come up, that much was obvious. He couldn’t wait until Tigerkit got older, the little thing would never grow any older. He had to explain what had happened, if he didn’t, another cat would.

Yet he couldn’t, at least not immediately.

Not when Tigerkit had just fallen asleep in his jaws, and not when he was equally tired.

As they entered the northern quarter of Starclan camp cats stopped to gawk at the limp kit. Firestar pushed forward, pushing a cat to the side whenever it was necessary.

He made his way towards the den he’d first arrived in when he’d awoken from his death. Huffing softly as he passed the threshold and carefully looking over his unearthly belongings. Feathers and fleece lined his bedding, flowering moss grew across the cave walls, oak branches had been laid atop each other to make a variety of chambers within the cavern.

It was a nice place, come to think of it.

Firestar set Tigerkit down on his nesting and laid down beside him.


	2. Distant Past

Without giving it much thought, Firestar left his den to stretch, pushing aside the curtain of vines and greeting the morning with a groggy yawn.

But it wasn’t actually morning, and the unearthly light from the Starclan sky reminded him of that. Distant, glittery formations twisted overhead, swirling in a manner that Firestar couldn’t help but compare to storm clouds.

Something about the wispy grey above made him feel lonely.

Illogically, there were still stars above him, albeit pale, unfamiliar ones. It was hard to quantify, but they didn’t feel quite real to him. It all felt a bit fake.

Perhaps he was too simple a cat to truly fathom whatever the stars beyond Starclan could be. Faded souls? The spirits of the living? He was clawing at the dark.

Furthermore, he was still tired.

As his vision cleared he found himself moving further out from the mouth of the den, turning around once, then twice, and then realizing he wasn’t alone. He was standing before a broad shouldered white tom with pale yellow eyes.

Firestar was surprised it had taken him so long to notice the cat, considering the way his pelt seemed to glow in the lowlight.

“Whitestorm?” It hadn’t been a question, he’d immediately recognized his former deputy, but bleary confusion had found its way into his voice regardless. “To what do I owe the pleasure? You’re welcome to come in if you want.”

He was glad to see the his old friend, and as much as he wanted to show it, he knew Whitestorm wasn’t here for purely social reasons. He could see it in his eyes, see it in the way they darted from slightly left then slightly right, taking in Firestar’s appearance the same way he would before recounting a disastrous patrol or a shortage of prey. Neither of those things would be of much concern in Starclan.

“I wanted to see you, it’s been too long.” Whitestorm’s tufted ears wavered in place, as if he was actively trying not to lower them. “And- I suppose I wanted to see him.”

Firestar understood. He certainly preferred the presence of an old friend to a mob of Starclan ancients. “Don’t wake him up, please.”

Whitestorm dipped his head and set his countenance into forced neutrality.

Together they stared at Tigerkit’s sleeping form, occasionally looking at each other, and occasionally looking at their paws.

“Now what?”

Firestar let his gaze drift over to the entrance to his den, watching the silvery light filter in through the leafage. “Ideally, nothing.”

Whitestorm shook his head before sighing. “If only it was so simple. Every cat in living memory has an opinion on him-“

“He’s just a kit. He doesn’t remember anything but the Thunderclan nursery.”

There was a beat where neither cat spoke.

“You think he remembers me? We were denmates, after all.” Before Firestar could reply, Whitestorm continued speaking. “He’s going to find out, somebody’s going to tell him, and probably not out of the good of their heart. Most of the other -cats like him- know something about their situation already.”

Firestar felt his stomach twist, not with fear or disgust, but just plain shock. “There’s others?”

“Hawkp- Hawk, Spottedkit. I haven’t heard of any others, at least not yet.”

“Spottedkit- you mean Spottedleaf, she’s here?”

Whitestorm lowered his head, but didn’t properly nod. “She’s certainly held in a significantly better regard than little Tigerkit here. Redtail has been telling her about the events she’s forgotten. Last I heard, she’s looking forward to meeting you.”

“Oh.” Firestar was absolutely dumbstruck. This was all beyond him, at least it was for the time being. So much had changed yesterday, he was certain some part of his mind was still rallying Thunderclan. “I will, maybe even today. Soon.”

“Brindleface wants to see you too. Leaders long before your time, Sunstar- Nettlestar-Thunder, Shadow.”

“I’ll come out as soon as I can Whitestorm, but I don’t want Tigerkit to wake up alone again.” Firestar wasn’t sure what to make of the list of cats who had requested his presence, it made him feel like a scrutinized apprentice once again.

Whitestorm smiled warmly, something solar lighting up in his eyes. His smile changed into a subtle defiance as he treaded closer to the kitten’s nest. He picked Tigerkit up by the scruff of his neck and lowered him onto the rock floor.

Tigerkit’s eyes opened.

—

It had been a very nice rest, dreamless but restful. Tigerkit had entirely forgotten the night before during his slumber. Everything rushed back when he opened his eyes.

A new cat was gently nuzzling him awake, a white tom with a rather taciturn appearance.

“Oh. Hello there!” Tigerkit greeted the new cat. As he spoke his gaze drifted over to Firestar for assurance, he didn’t truly know Firestar yet, but the leader’s presence was innately supportive.

Firestar looked a bit miffed. “Whitestorm, you are complicating this. Let me get the kit situated first—“

The new cat, Whitestorm apparently, set his jaw and sighed. “How about we take him to a nursery patch and see how things spiral out from there. Something plain and mundane will do the both of you some good.”

“I reserve the right to excuse myself.”

Whitestorm turned back to Tigerkit, a genuine warmth to his expression. “Come on then, let’s go.” Tigerkit was conflicted, but he couldn’t tell why. He could tell just from that conversation that the other two cats were privy to something he wasn’t. Something was being complicated, and Firestar seemed bothered by the idea of leaving the den.

Warriors always kept things from kits, apparently that was true even in Starclan.

For his part, Whitestorm led the way out of the den, head held high even as he pushed through the foliage at the cavern’s mouth.

“Good afternoon Stonefur, Deadfoot.” He called out to a pair of toms sharing a massive magpie. One of the two, the pale grey one, responded by averting his eyes. The other tom replied in turn. “Same to you Whitestorm.”

The grey cat only spoke up after having taken another bite of magpie. “It’s nice to see you Firestar.”

Firestar nodded. “Thank you.”

Distantly, Tigerkit wondered about who the two toms were. They could have been from any clan, from hundreds of moons ago, and he’d been too thoughtless to even greet them. Leopardfoot would have definitely scolded him for that, they were basically an even more prestigious sort of elder.

Regardless of Tigerkit’s regret, the group pushed onwards into the Starclan brush.

Every inch of the forest floor held some oddity. Fungus the size of a fox grew out from fallen logs. Bees darted about from place to place, leaving trails of displaced stardust in their wake.

They hadn’t been walking for long, but time seemed to stretch out in the shrubbery.

Tigerkit nearly stopped in his tracks to gawk at spruce tree growing out from the side of a ravine. He would have felt horribly embarrassed about it had Firestar not slowed to take in the same sight.

As they moved, the terrain changed, now the landscape was broken up by gulleys and tunnels. All sorts of unusual rock formations that Tigerkit didn’t even have words for. So much of it was crystalline.

Whitestorm didn’t even look up at the shards of floating rock overhead.

Eventually the chatter of conversation made its way into earshot, punctuated by the excited squeals of kits.

“And here we are, my personal favorite nursery patch.” Whitestorm announced.

Spurred on by the sound of play-fighting, Tigerkit ran ahead. However his excitement and unfamiliarity with the area both got the better of him, and he felt himself begin to lose his footing. He attempted to countercorrect and only made his situation worse. His feet were lifting up too high, and he could feel himself beginning to flip. By the time he reached the commotion he was spinning into a somersault.

Firestar was yelling out his name, but it sounded far away.

He rolled past the the two noisy kits who’d initially convinced him to run ahead.

Tigerkit’s path of destruction only came to an end when he crashed into another similarly sized kit. From his position on his back it was hard to make out the cat’s features aside from the blue eyes staring directly into his.

She was laughing at him. That was fair.

“Are you alright after all that- oh! You’re new aren’t you?” She asked, changing the subject before even finishing her first query.

“Uh- yeah, I actually just died yesterday.”

Her expression wavered, but then solidified into something playful. “I bet you’re from Thunderclan then, because that might just have been the single most Thunderclan thing I’ve ever seen.

Offense bristled on Tigerkit’s back, but he didn’t have the opportunity to say anything before the she cat began talking again.

“It’s not a bad thing though. I mean, you still managed to knock me over.”

Suddenly Tigerkit felt embarrassed, moreso than he already did. He hoped the she-cat hadn’t noticed his indignation. “uh- no it’s fine, you were actually right. So you’re not from Thunderclan then?”

“It’s complicated, I’m actually half Thunderclan and half Riverclan. So we’ve got half of something in common.“

This kit was unrelentingly friendly, and Tigerkit was surprised by how much he immediately wanted her to like him. Perhaps he was just glad to finally meet a cat his age who wasn’t one of his oversized sisters.

With a grin, he pounced on her.

She batted back, laughing uncontrollably.

She headbutted.

He kicked.

Neither of them had the stamina they wanted. Thoroughly exhausted, they both curled up next to each other.

“I’m Tigerkit, by the way, what’s your name?”

The she-cat suddenly tensed up. When he turned to face her, he saw she was giving him an odd look. Suddenly uncomfortable, Tigerkit looked around to find Firestar. The leader was still sitting at the nursery entrance, chatting with a brindled grey she-cat. Whitestorm was watching him with a lax smile, and he blinked encouragingly once they made eye contact.

“I’m Mosskit. My mother actually told me that you’d be here.” Mosskit finally replied. “Somehow you don’t look the way I pictured you.”

“Oh. Is your mom Thunderclan or Riverclan?”

“She’s Thunderclan, she’s not at the nursery right now but I’ll point her out when she comes back. She’s a leader actually.

“My father was a leader you know!”

“Oh! Who?”

Tigerkit stopped, suddenly struck with a very unpleasant memory. “Forget I said that, he wasn’t a real leader. And it doesn’t matter anyway- He’s not in Starclan.”

Mosskit churred sympathetically. Tigerkit changed the subject. “So what do you know about Firestar?”

“He’s- oh yeah. Firestar was great. Once he lead all the clans together against a group of vicious rouges. Then he led Thunderclan into the new territory. And! He brought Skyclan back into contact with Starclan!”

“That’s- wow. He’s been really nice to me.”

This time Mosskit changed the subject. “So Tigerkit, what do you think about me?”

“You’re fun? I definitely like you. I’m glad I rolled into you I guess.”

“Does it bother you that I’m half-clan?”

“I dunno. It’s weird I guess, but we’re both in Starclan, so it’s not like it matters.”

Mosskit seemed pensive. Tigerkit continued awkwardly.

“Would you rather be playing with a Riverclan cat? Is that-“

“Don’t worry about it. I was just curious, sometimes cats get weird about that.”


	3. Piece of a Whole

Mosskit lightly batted at Tigerkit’s tail, purring as he pushed his foot into her muzzle. She clambered atop of him in response, putting some weight onto his shoulder.

“Watch it, I could take my claws out!” He said, referencing the way his back paw brushed up against her belly.

“But you won’t.” She retorted.

Tigerkit paused, huffed, and then rolled onto his back, knocking Mosskit over in the process.

“Smug mouse-brain.” She muttered, defeated. Tigerkit laughed.

As they laid side by side, Mosskit struggled to believe this was the cat her mother had so intensively warned her about. Bluestar had described a completely different creature, something brutal but conniving, most certainly not kind of cat one should feel safe bluffing around. 

“I don’t think you’re that bad, Tigerkit.” She said.

He turned to her and squinted. “Of course- you were just joking.” He sounded genuinely confused. “It’ll take more than calling me mouse-brain to offended me.”

“No, I mean, as a cat. You’re not as bad as my mother said you were.”

Tigerkit stared blankly at Mosskit before replying. “Yeah, well Riverclan cats are fickle like that-“

“My mother’s from Thunderclan- I told you already.”

“Then what did she say about me?”

After he said that, a new thought occurred to Mosskit, one she hadn’t even considered before. And looking back on everything she knew, it all suddenly made a lot more sense. Tigerkit wasn’t Tigerstar, or at least, he didn’t remember having been Tigerstar. He wasn’t just a kit physically, but he was a kit on the inside.

Less like an aged-down version of Tigerstar, and more like a fractured piece of a whole.

For the first time since she met him, Tigerkit was completely comprehensible. She couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to her the moment they’d begun to play-fight. He’d scared her by pouncing on her unprompted, and now she knew he hadn’t even been trying to. He didn’t even know who he was.

“What did she say?” Tigerkit reiterated.

As she stumbled over her words, Tigerkit continued speaking.

“It was about my father wasn’t it?”

“Uh?”

“I promise I’m not a kittypet like him. “

“No, I don’t think you are.” She offered. Mosskit had no idea that Tigerstar’s father was a kittypet, and she had no idea what to make of this information.

Tigerkit stared at her firmly, and then smiled. “Thank you.”

She felt horrifically uncomfortable after realizing how vulnerable this kit was. 

“I don’t think you should worry about things like that in Starclan,” she could feel her ears laying lower than would be reassuring. “it’s the same as me being half-clan.”

Nothing about Tigerkit’s pensive frown seemed very comforted. Instead he looked downright mournful. Briefly, Mosskit wondered whether it would be easier to simply tell him the full truth. 

Then, a loud, deep voice interrupted them. 

\- 

“Tigerkit!” Whitestorm called, beckoning from a few foxlengths away. He watched as the kit stiffed, and then immediately stood at attention. The she-cat beside him reacted similarly, and followed along as Tigerkit approached. 

Upon a moment’s inspection, Whitestorm recognized her, Mosskit, daughter of Bluestar. Something about the sight of the two cats walking in tandem made Whitestorm feel a bit dizzy, as if he was only now realizing how reality-bending recent events had been.

“I promise I’ll meet up with you again.” Mosskit said before slowing her steps, apparently reconsidering her decision to follow Tigerkit straight to Whitestorm.

“I’d like that.” Replied Tigerkit. 

When Tigerkit finally made his way to Whitestorm’s forepaws, he only had one question. “Where’s Firestar?”

“He’s a busy cat, it’s always a great ordeal when a leader joins Starclan.” Whitestorm said.

After speaking, a bolt of frustration struck him, and he wondered if Tigerkit had caught on to his implication that Firestar had died recently, or if he, being a kit, would even recognize the inconsistency. Unfortunately, he saw a suspicious glare forming in Tigerkit’s eyes.

“What does he have to do?”

Whitestorm sighed. “A lot of friendly headbutting, general discussion of his life with what might as well be every leader to ever grace Thunderclan. Sooner or later he’ll need to give Bramblestar one of his nine lives. It’s hard work, some cats just don’t get to rest when they’re dead.”

With that, Whitestorm began to lead Tigerkit away from the nursery. Their path was a bit longer than necessary, simply because Whitestorm found the longer route calming. As they treaded up and into a crystalline rock formation he could hear quiet muttering from behind him.

Unsure of what was happening, he turned around, only to see Tigerkit looking downright distraught, quivering like a spiderweb in the wind. 

“I remember you, I think.” The kit whispered “it’s like a vivid thought, not really a memory but I- I know you.”

There was a chilling maturity to his words. The tone wouldn’t have been upsetting on its own, but given the context, Whitestorm allowed himself a shiver. 

“How so?” He ventured. 

“I don’t really know.” Came Tigerkit’s reply. “But I think I remember being an apprentice with you- but I- I’m not an apprentice, I died too young.”

The response left Whitestorm speechless. He lowered himself to Tigerkit’s eye level and found himself sighing, this was so very far beyond his expertise. Never before in his afterlife had he ever felt less like a wise Starclan cat. Tigerkit’s gaze wasn’t expectant or angry, just distraught. That only made Whitestorm want to help him more. He remembered the time before Tigerstar’s actions had been known, before Tigerclaw’s exile, when Whitestorm had considered him a friend.

He’d wanted to tell Tigerkit the reality of his situation from the very start, but now he was wavering, but now he felt horrifically incapable of doing what was needed. It was as if medicine cat duties had just been thrust upon him, and he didn’t know which herbs would heal a sick cat, and which herbs would kill them.

“When we get back to the den, I think me and Firestar will have to- discuss something with you.” He finally proposed.

As they moved, Whitestorm reconsidered the nature of Tigerkit’s being. Before he’d figured that Tigerkit, along with the other newly made ‘kits’ were some inexplicable regression from adult to youth, but now he’d found a much more quantifiable explanation. These cats had been fractured, broken apart by the process of being slain in after the afterlife. And these new kits, or apprentices in Hawk’s case, were the only functional part remaining.

it wasn’t a flawless theory, and he was already finding holes in the concept, but he knew it was better than what he’d had before. Better, but also worse.

-

Firestar felt as if he was attending festivities. Cats from all clans circled him, laughing and sharing prey. They all had questions for him, and he could only answer half of their queries. His head was beginning to spin. 

While he’d been watching over Tigerkit he’d accidentally brushed pelts with a familiar cat. Brindleface. She chirped a greeting upon seeing him, and then asked where he’d been for so long after his death.

“I’ve been sleeping mostly, I got wrapped up with Bluestar, and then I heard about Tigerkit- after all that, I just collapsed on my bedding.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re thinking about all this. How’d you get saddled with him? What’s happened to Leopardfoot?”

“She couldn’t bear to look at him, she was worried he’d hurt his sisters. I guess I just stepped up to take care of him.”

Brindleface looked entirely sympathetic. Her expression was almost motherly, and she looked back towards Tigerkit with a furrowed brow. She looked like she wanted to say something, but ultimately resolved to hold it back.

Then a new voice interrupted, Whitestorm’s. “It’s alright Firestar, I’ll watch the kit, you can take a break with the rest of the clan. We can meet back up at your den.”

Firestar honestly felt that watching kits play had been a more relaxing experience than whatever was happening to him now. He laid down on a nest of loose wool and moss, while a group of other cats, most of them unfamiliar to him, passed around a fresh-kill rabbit. All of the cats present were asking Firestar questions, nosing other cats away to get closer.

Despite the chaotic nature of the crowd, Firestar made an effort to keep track of their names. 

So far he’d made note of a Thrushpelt and a Willowbreeze, two warriors who’d asked him questions about the Great Journey. But some cats ran through conversation without stopping to introduce themselves.

Against his better judgement, Firestar found himself enjoying the affair. He couldn’t make sense of whether the party around him was an impromptu happening or something that Starclan always did to new arrivals.

When he asked, a Shadowclan ancient told him “It fits you, especially after all that business with the Dark Forest.”

It was simultaneously a celebration of his life and an interrogation, and Firestar eventually excused himself to return to his den. 

Faintly, he wondered when he’d lost track of Brindleface.

As he tread through the ornate foliage of Starclan he realized that this was his second time being truly alone on the territory. The first time he’d been tracking down Tigerkit and the terrain had practically led him straight to the abandoned kit.

That was what Bluestar had told him, the territory of Starclan shifts according to where each cat wants to go. Now that he wasn’t particularly driven, he wondered if he was doing it right. Once he got the hang of this method of travel he promised himself he’d go and explore the infinite space to the best of his ability. 

Foxlengths ahead, he could see the rocky silhouette of his new den through the fog. Whitestorm stood at the cavern’s entrance looking grave. Behind him, Tigerkit sat prone on the rock floor.

Firestar felt his stomach drop. Something was wrong.


	4. It Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What month is it?

Apparently Tigerkit had done something wrong, he could tell just from the way Whitestorm and Firestar were looking at him. 

He suspected it had something to do with his bizarre familiarity with Whitestorm- but that wasn’t his fault- he shouldn’t be in trouble for that! Perhaps it was due to his time spent playing with Mosskit, maybe that had gotten out to her mother- it wasn’t fair- he’d never done anything to Mosskit’s mother!

Then he heard Whitestorm say it. “He remembers me, he might even remember you.”

Confirmation came down on Tigerkit like a falling branch. 

This still wasn’t fair and it still was not his fault.

As much as he wanted to dismiss the impossible memories, they still felt real. A series of brief little glimpses about his apprenticeship, and even a few memories past that.

It didn’t make any sense, he simply hadn’t lived that long. Furthermore, Whitestorm had probably lived and died generations before him. 

Now Firestar was approaching him with a grave expression on his muzzle. Tigerkit’s focus on the leader slipped for a moment, and his vision failed him. 

Reality had been replaced by some grandiose apparition. Tigerkit could see Firestar standing defiant in a burning clearing, bloodied and furious, with flame reflected in his eyes. When Tigerkit returned to substantiality, he found that his hackles had been raised and his claws had been unsheathed. 

It must have been a rather pathetic display. Regardless, Firestar lowered himself down to Tigerkit’s level and smiled.

“Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble, I’m just going to tell you a story. Maybe ask a few questions.” 

“I’m not worried!” Tigerkit protested, suddenly self conscious of his strange outburst.

Firestar smiled slyly. “Well I’m going to start whether you’re worried or not, so there’s no need to specify.”

Whitestorm laughed, shook his head, and then began to walk away. This drew an unusual reaction from Firestar, who visibly stiffened as the white tom padded off.

Tigerkit looked at his paws, he didn’t understand what was going on, and it was all beginning to drive him absolutely mad. Questions of what and why danced around in his head until neither word held any meaning. 

The warm presence of Firestar’s breath against his pelt broke him out of his mental struggle.

“I guess he’s not a fan of nursery stories- his loss.” Firestar said. 

“Alright- Tigerkit, I want you to picture Thunderclan, at some point in the past- or the future. It doesn’t matter, just know that this story takes place in Thunderclan, and it’s a really bad time to be a Thunderclan cat.   
Prey was- is sparse, there‘s all sorts of inter-clan tensions, and at one point there was a fire in Thunderclan camp. And while this was all happening- this one Thunderclan tom was vying for leadership.”

Firestar told the story with all the glee of an elder relaying a story from his childhood, and the tom’s demeanor put Tigerkit at ease.

“This cat- he killed his own clanmates to get rid of the competition. He plotted against his own kin, and once he finally made deputy, he tried to kill his own leader. He cornered her on her last life, and he reveled in her fear. It wasn’t just about control for him- it was about absolute power.  
He was exiled for it, and that didn’t even stop him. This tom took advantage of the misfortune of another clan, he inserted himself into Shadowclan- and somehow- Starclan let him become leader.  
But- Eventually, all of his conniving and backstabbing caught up to him, he was killed by the leader of a troop of rouges and kittypets, a cat that he had invited into the clans. Then these kittypets and rouges attempted to take the forest for themselves.”

Tigerkit couldn’t stop himself from physically bristling at the thought of a kittypet invasion. The idea revulsed him.

“All four clans had to unite to drive these cats out, and this leader was now remembered for his cruelty, manipulation, and poor judgement. He wanted to see the whole world writhing beneath him, and he ended up as an object of disgust and mockery.” Firestar comtinued. “I think that really got to him, more so than anything else.” 

Now all the jollification was gone from Firestar’s voice. Something clicked in Tigerkit’s head, and he realized that this story had happened in Firestar’s own time. It wasn’t just a kit-tale, but a personal account. 

“Even after death, this cat haunted the clans, manipulating his own kin from a place without stars. Many leaf bares after he died, he was still plotting against Thunderclan. At this point- I didn’t even know what he wanted- power- revenge- maybe he just wanted to revel in the fear he caused. It didn’t matter really, either way, he attempted to wage a war on Starclan and on all living cats. Obviously, he didn’t succeed, in fact, his ghost was destroyed. What was left of him after all this was just an echo of what he used to be- before he became a killer- all that’s left of Tigerstar, is you, Tigerkit.”

Time passed. Tigerkit blinked. “I don’t get it.”

Firestar kneaded the ground as he spoke. “I fought with Tigerstar’s ghost, and- I guess you can’t kill a ghost. The same thing happened to other cats- your son- a she cat I knew in my youth. They were destroyed in the battle with Starclan, and somehow they ended up like you. Tigerstar, I’m sorry.”

The story didn’t make any sense, it wasn’t possible, but Tigerkit couldn’t find the words to dispute what Firestar was telling him. 

For some reason, he believed it.

He couldn’t reconcile what he had just been told with anything he’d ever been told before.

War in Starclan?  
Ghosts becoming kits?

Firestar has just called him Tigerstar- an actual leader had just referred to him with the title of a clan leader.

Tigerstar- the murderer.

He had a son.

It felt like a cruel joke. He expected Firestar to start laughing, maybe Whitestorm would join in, he actually wanted them to start laughing. But it didn’t come, instead Firestar began to touch his muzzle into Tigerkit’s shoulder.

“Tigerstar was a dangerous, awful cat, but I don’t think you are, I think you could have been a wonderful warrior had things gone just a bit differently.”

With those words, Tigerkit felt a blistering, seething rage like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Once he identified the invasive, adult emotion, he yelped in shock.

Now that the thought had been seeded in his mind, Tigerkit was starting to believe Firestar’s claim. It was true, he felt incomplete in some inexplicable way.

He was also absolutely furious. He’d never previously imagined anger this all-consuming, and he had no idea where it was coming from.

Instead of lashing out, the emotion manifested as a stream of tears as Tigerkit began to sob. 

Firestar was trying to physically comfort him, but each touch made Tigerkit physically recoil in disgust. He didn’t know what it meant.

He just wanted to be left alone, not even that, he wanted to be alone. If he was isolated and nobody was there with him he wouldn’t have to think, and maybe he’d have the time to mull things over.

This was too confusing. He wanted to go back to the nursery.

He wanted to know where his mother was. If he had been an adult who’d already lived and died, than surely she was here in Starclan.

“Tiger- kit? Are you alri-“ Firestar began.

“Please just leave me alone!” Tigerkit snapped.

When Firestar recoiled, Tigerkit took the opportunity to dart away. He had no clue where he was going, he just wanted to be somewhere the ruddy tom wouldn’t find him. Such was the nature of Starclan, and he was immediately running through an unfamiliar forest. He could hear Firestar calling out behind him. The voice was fading with each major change in scenery. 

He had to get further away.

He passed through gulches and mountain pathways until he finally found himself in complete darkness.

Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the walls of a starry cave. Puddles of water congealed on the ceiling. Damp soil clung to Tigerkit’s paws.

It was nonsensical, and he found no wonder in it. He just wanted to curl up and forget. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: shit hits the fan  
I promise


	5. Retrospective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck.

Chasing a cat through Starclan was a mindbending experience. Speed had nothing to do with it, instead Firestar was moving forward through sheer force of willpower, focusing on Tigerkit as the world dematerialized around them.

Despite this, he was falling behind.

Firestar attempted to speed up, he forced his legs to move faster and harder than physically possible- but there was no physicality to fight against. As he realized how truly unrestricted he was, he began to bring himself closer to Tigerkit. In a few moments he’d almost closed the gap- then his stomach lurched.

He had tried to will himself into the gap and something went wrong, the ground dropped out from beneath Firestar’s paws. For a brief moment he was entirely intangible.

In a panic, Firestar drew to a stop. He felt normal again, but his surroundings were unrecognizable.

He was standing alone in a grassy field, not even remotely winded. There was nothing familiar about his surroundings, no landmarks to be seen. Silvery grass stretched out in every direction He had no idea how he had even reached this place.

How had he gotten so far from his den in such a short period of time?

He never would have been able to have run such a distance in life. 

It still wasn’t enough.

He’d lost Tigerkit.

Starclan was a madcap, lawless place, and Firestar found himself longing for a physical body. Even in his old age, he would have been capable of catching up with a kit.

He didn’t know what to do or where to go, so he paced until he heard the sound of footfall. A white tom was standing a foxlength away, he’d seemingly appeared out of thin air.

“What’s happened?” Whitestorm asked? Before Firestar could respond, he answered his own question. “He didn’t take the truth well, did he?”

“He’s gone Whitestorm, he ran off.” Firestar admitted.

Whitestorm visibly tensed up, soundlessly snarling at his own unsheathed claws. “It’s my fault. I knew it was going to be messy and I ran off like a coward. If I’d been there, I could have stopped him.” His tufted white ears laid flat on his head, and his muzzle was contorted into a visceral snarl.

As much as Firestar wanted to comfort his former deputy, he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth without spreading more blame. Whether he would have targeted himself or his compatriot, it didn’t matter, he wouldn’t make a badger of himself. 

Instead he asked a pair of imperative questions. “How do we find Tigerkit? Where could he have gone?”

Whitestorm set his jaw and looked down at his paws. He softly sighed before he resumed eye contact.

“I don’t know- but if we go looking for him we’ll find him eventually. Starclan works like that.”

-

Deep within a winding system of tunnels, Tigerkit’s mind was tormenting him. The story Firestar had told him was true. He could feel it. If he focused he could even see the memories in his mind. 

Despite what Tigerkit knew, he didn’t understand. He still didn’t understand.

Water was running up his paws and legs, dripping off his back and pooling into the ceiling above. It was a beautiful, impossible process, and Tigerkit couldn’t keep himself from staring. His vantage point gave him a clear look at his own reflection.

He was looking up at the translucent specter of a grown cat. Its form flickered and shifted aberrantly, never settling into one thing, but remaining recognizable nonetheless.

With a slow, dreadful movement Tigerkit checked himself over, horrified that he might look like the cat on the cavern ceiling. To his great relief, he still resembled himself.

When he looked back at the entity in the puddle he could almost pity it. Such an intimidating, powerful cat- he looked ridiculous cowering like a kit. For the sake of dignity, Tigerkit sat up straight. In turn, the mirrored image of Tigerstar met his gaze. 

Bizarre contrasting feelings began to take hold of Tigerkit, disgust and shock were fighting with his own sense of pride.

After all, that was him, a leader- so much more than a kittypet’s son. 

He’d become so much, and it didn’t matter now- because he’d done awful things to get there. And it had been for nothing, all his achievements had been stripped from him in death.

Tigerkit tried to remember, hoping it would help him understand. The only things that came to him were fleeting images. 

Two small kits with a golden-furred mother.

Rain.

Blood.

Black and tan dogs with massive, heavy bodies.

He could remember seeing Firestar. Both of them were standing alone in the rain, and the memory came with a wave of hateful, furious emotion.

Rain.

There was so much rain, Tigerkit wondered if the water running up his body was affecting his recall. He decided to find someplace dry to think. After he gave his reflection one last hard stare he realized he wanted to see Mosskit again.

-

Stonefur stared over his paws, fondly watching Mosskit bat at ethereal butterflies. 

“That’s a battle move, you know?” He called out to her. “The way you’re rocking on your back legs- it’s called an ‘apprentice’s thrust’.”

Mosskit beamed back at him, and repeated the motion with additional finesse.

“Yes! Exactly like that!” 

She would have been a great warrior, if she’d only had the chance. The thought wasn’t new to Stonefur, but it still managed to sting.

His glum thoughts were interrupted by Mosskit herself, without warning she called out in excitement. It took Stonefur a moment to process the word she had said.

Not a word- a name.

“Tigerkit! Tigerkit you’re back!” Mosskit reiterated as she bounded up to a small tabby kit. As she got closer to the other cat her demeanor suddenly changed. “You’re a mousebrain, I said I’d find you! Now you’re going to get me in trouble.”

Stonefur couldn’t believe his own eyes. He’d known about the aftermath of the great battle, he’d even met little Hawk, but this- this confounded him. She recognized him, and they had been conspiring together?

That little brown tom muttering quietly to his sister, that was the cat that had ordered his death. Acting on instinct alone, he darted between the two and hissed.

All he had wanted to do was break the two cats up.

Before logic could find its place in Stonefur’s mind, Tigerkit responded in turn, hissing and spitting with hatred in his eyes. In an instant the kit had transformed into something flickering and broken, like a silhouette of the ever-familiar Tigerstar.

If this was an attempt to intimidate, it failed. Suddenly Stonefur’s protectiveness and aggression was completely justified. It galvanized him.

How dare this monster deceive his sister?

Stonefur brought a paw down onto the apparition’s head, rocking forward into the motion. By the time his blow would have made contact the grown form was gone, and he had dug his claws into the ground beside a terrified kit.

Mosskit was pleading with him, but he wasn’t hearing any individual words.

All he could comprehend was Tigerkit’s panicked mantra. “I’m so sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I remember you I’m so sorry.”

Stonefur couldn’t bring himself to sheath his claws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait- the world has not been kind to me recently.


	6. Innocence and Other Temporary States

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo. G’mornin’ to ‘ya.

When Tigerkit looked at Stonefur memories flashed in his head. Detached images of injustice and violence as seen from above. It wasn’t much, but Tigerkit understood. He’d killed this tom. Worse, he’d sat atop a rock and ordered his death- like a coward. 

In the past day he’d learned so much about himself, and none of it had been pleasant. And it had just culminated in a single moment of stress where he lashed out in defense, and for just a moment he’d taken on an unfamiliar form. He had been a grown cat, larger than Stonefur, and he had known exactly who he was. It was the final crushing confirmation, proving an unfortunate truth that he already believed in. 

Mosskit was staring at him, half frightened and half concerned. “What was that? Tigerkit-“

Stonefur cut her off with a light tap his paw, pushing her away before looking intently at Tigerkit. His fur was smooth against his back and his expression was unreadable. “Tell me what is going on- in your own words.”

A chill ran up Tigerkit’s spine after he heard the grey tom’s words. There was something almost unnatural about how reserved Stonefur had become, only moments ago he’d been hissing and spitting in fury, now he sounded inquisitive, encouraging even.

“I wanted to see Mosskit, so I went looking for her. I know I’m- I know about myself now, but I swear on Starclan I wasn’t going to hurt her.” He offered, trying very hard to keep his little voice steady. 

“Did you know she is my sister?”

“I didn’t, I didn’t even know who you were until I looked at you!” Panic was settling into his voice now, and he didn’t have the energy to fight it off.

The pale grey tom shifted away from him, then narrowed his gaze. “You need to leave, before you remember anything else.”

“I can’t help it! I haven’t been able to stop since Firestar asked me to remember- and now I keep knowing things that I don’t want to know. I know you and Mosskit were Bluestar’s kits, and I think I- I think I hurt her. and I don’t want to know these things!” Tigerkit’s heart was pounding in his chest now. The more he spoke, the more he could recall. Everything was getting clearer now, and it was still getting worse. “Just this sunup I was just a sorry dead kit, and now I wish I could be that!”

He was thinking about what else to yell when he felt a sudden pressure on his shoulder. When he realized his eyes were shut, he opened them up to see Stonefur nudging him. “It’s okay, take a breath, look at your paws. Tigerkit, tell me who you are.”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m a very bad cat.”

Stonefur sighed, then continued his questioning. “What do you remember about Tigerstar’s life?”

“Things, mostly just moments and feelings. Some stuff just fits into place, but then I’ll try to remember something and I just don’t know anything. I don’t remember being made leader, I don’t know what happened to Blu-the leader before me. I can’t tell why I hated Firestar so much. I-“ Tigerkit was cut off when Mosskit laid down besides him. He glanced towards Stonefur, wordlessly asking permission. The tom blinked permissibly, then stood up, and moved some distance away.

Mosskit was hiding a smug smile under her paw.

”Did I-“ Tigerkit began, before deciding not to ask whether or not he’d killed her mother. “Did I know you at all?”

“I think we were in Thunderclan together for a little bit. You didn’t leave much of an impression on me.” She suddenly struck out with her paw and batted him on the nose. “Snowfur and Bluestar would try to scare me with stories about you in the dark forest, they never worked.”

She sounded legitimately boastful. Tigerkit wasn’t sure how that made him feel, he’d always wanted to go down in clan legend, and there was some horrible sense of accomplishment in the fact that he had. He almost wanted to play up the part of a wicked tyrant, just to roughhouse with Mosskit.

Stonefur’s cool blue gaze kept him from acting that idea out. Maybe he couldn’t bear to make light of his past when in the presence of one of his very real victims, or maybe he was just afraid of acting out in front of the intimidating tom.

Mosskit continued to bat at his face.

\- 

Firestar calmed himself, took a deep breath, then headed for Tigerkit. Whitestorm followed directly behind him, occasionally providing words of encouragement.

“If you want to go somewhere, just start moving, you’ll get there eventually.”

In Firestar’s opinion, it sounded more like a parable than actual advice. Regardless, he tried in earnest, placing one paw ahead of the other. 

“If you know where you’re going, or who you want to see, it will practically come to you.”

Sure enough, the surrounding field slowly transitioned into scrubland, then a muddy fen, until Firestar finally reached a clearing in the weeds. He saw Tigerkit, along with two other cats, a she cat his age, and Stonefur.

He called out to the small gathering with a wordless mew. Each cat reacted to his presence in a wildly different way.

Tigerkit visibly shied away, shrinking into himself.

Stonefur chirruped a formal greeting, bowing his head in respect.

The young she cat pouted at him like he’d just asked her to clean out the elder’s den.

“Tigerkit, thank Lionclan you’re alright. You had me worried.” Firestar carefully chose his words as he approached Tigerkit, concerned the kit would run off again if he said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry.” Was Tigerkit’s only reply.

Whitestorm walked ahead and scooped the tiny tom up by his scruff. For a beat he made steady eye contact with Stonefur.

Watching the two former deputies interact made Firestar feel oddly wistful. He remembered when Thunderclan used to border Riverclan, and he realized that neither cat had been deputy long enough to meet with the other on peaceful terms. It made him feel old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New status quo achieved, now we can go back to the fluffier stuff. I’ll probably be gone for a while before I post the next chapter, I’m juggling a few projects rn.


End file.
